


Making Friends

by gr8escap



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Children, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Kid Bucky Barnes, Kid Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers is a little shit, annoying your way into someone's life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:46:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gr8escap/pseuds/gr8escap





	Making Friends

He shuffled his feet, and wiggled his toes, smiling proudly up at his mom. “They fit better now Ma, an’ I tied ‘em m’self, see?”

“Steven, you did a great job! Did you remember to double up?”

“Yup,” he coughed softly, “they’re not comin’ untied ‘til I untie ’em.”

Sarah looked fondly over her small son, today was the hardest day in her life, and there’d been some hard ones. No, she reminded herself, smiling at his eager grin. Today wasn’t _hard,_ it was an emotional, proud day. He was growing, proving the doctors wrong, and he was going to kindergarten, also proving them completely without merit.

“Do you remember your teacher’s name?” she asked as they walked. She kept her pace slow, her steps small, to allow for him to keep up with her without straining to breathe.

“Miss Kunkel. She’s tall as you an’ she’s got a red bun. She looks stern.” He said, smiling and unafraid, looking at his mother’s starched white nurse’s uniform. He handed her the peaked cap he carried for her “here ya go ma, we’re almost there.”

“We are almost there; you remember what to do when school lets out?”

“Yup.” His answer was stronger now that they’d stopped at the turn toward the building, so his breathing could concentrate on keeping him upright and his speech, without the added activity of walking. “Wait at the steps for Missus Riley to meet me. I’m ta carry a bag of groceries for her troubles.”

“You’re to offer to help her with something manageable, carry her coat if it’s too warm, don’t try to carry something too heavy.”

“Ma.” He complained.

“Steven, you’re just recovering from sickness this past week, humor me, please? You don’t want to miss your first week of kindergarten do you?”

“No ma’am.” He pouted.

She crouched in front of him straightening his collar and kissing his forehead, “none of that. Big boys don’t pout and they don’t disobey their mothers.”

“Love you ma.” Steve said, his body going all soft and wiggly in her arms. He loved her hugs, and her clean fresh scent, most of all he loved her.”

“I love you too, you little rascal.”

. . .

“Aw ma, please.” Winnifred Barnes smiled at her son’s exasperation. “Please don’t _call me that_.”

“But _James_ , that’s your name. Should I call you _Jimmy?_ ” she asked sweetly, giving up on the top button of his shirt. He wouldn’t get much more wear out of this one, “I’m going to leave this button undone, I don’t want to strangle you. You’re growing like a weed!”

“Noooo don’t call me Jimmy, _Jimmy_ is a bully and I don’t _want_ the same name as him.”

“Well we’re running out of options, James Buchanan Barnes. Just what whimsical title do you have for yourself young buck?”

“I don’t know.” He sat down on the chair he had been standing on in a huff, folding his arms. “Just don’t call me nothin’ I just won’t _go_ to first grade.”

“Ok. I guess you can stay home with me and scrub the floors. Hands and knees all day instead of playing with the other kids at recess. You get more than one recess in first grade you know. Hey… that’s it. Buck, Buchanan, we’ll just call you Bucky. How does that fit a first grader with a loose tooth, huh?”

Not-James wiggled said tooth with his tongue, considering the name. “Mmm. Bucky.” He crinkled his nose, pursed his lips to one side and the next, then wiggled his tooth again a little harder. “Yup, it’s a good one. I’ll keep it.”

Winni shook her head laughing, ruffled her son’s head, “I’m going to go get your sister and we’ll walk you to school.”

“Thanks ma.” He called after her, listening to her sing-song ‘Rebecca’ fading into the other room. He kicked his feet back and forth, stretching his toes, and trying to reach the floor. Bucky scooted closer and closer to the edge of the wooden chair, his little butt cheeks feeling the pinch as he stretched his toes to barely graze the floor. Happy with his ‘growth’ and ability to reach, he whistled a shanty he’d heard by the docks.

“James Buchanan Barnes, there’ll be none of that in my house.” He heard from the room, followed by “one more buckle little Becca Boo, and we’ll walk _Bucky_ to school.”

“Who’s Bucky mama?” his sister asked. He grinned at the anonymity.

“Your brother. He’s changed his name.” she laughed, swinging Rebecca up on her hip and rounding the corner. “Is _Bucky_ ready to go to _first grade_?”

“Yup.” He hopped down from the chair, “I’m ready!”

They walked the block and a half, stopping twice to tie Bucky’s shoes. “You’re going to have to learn to tie your shoes young man, or we’re getting you buckle-up shoes for school.”

“No way Ma! I’m tryna learn. Really.” He did try, he learned everything so quickly but tying his shoes had him frustrated, confused and upset. He just couldn’t get the hang of it.

“I’m doubling them up. I don’t know how you do it.” She shook her head. “Double bows and you still manage to come undone.”

“I don’t want buckle up shoes ma. Please!”

“We’ll try tying them again today after school. You’ll pay attention, won’t you?” She asked, cupping his cheek. He nodded in her hand. “Don’t wiggle that tooth too much today, you should be listening to Miss Abraham.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bucky said, finishing the oath with extra wiggling, which caused his mother to laugh.

“I love you Bucky. You’re a little hellion, but I love you.” She continued laughing as she stood up, and held out her hand. “Hold my hand to cross the street. You can let go when we’re over the curb, not before.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bucky frowned.

They walked across the street, and Bucky stopped on the curb, before letting her hand drop, “Ma?”

“Yes?”

“Love you.” Bucky blinked up at her, smiling at her warm smile.

“Like I said on the other side of the road, I love you too.”

“More now than when we were over there though, right?”

“Yes James – I mean Bucky – because my love for you is _always growing_.”

“Just like me! I touched the floor sitting on the chair! My tippy, tippy toes touched the floor.”

“If you scuffed my floor, I’ll save scrubbing that spot for you.” She said, but her voice was still warm, she ruffled his hair, brushed it back into its soft fall, “I’m so proud that you’re growing so tall.”

“Ma?”

“Yes Bucky?”

“I’m ascared.”

“Scared? Why are you scared?”

“What if Jimmy beats me up? What if I don’t know anybody and I’m lonesome? What if my _shoes come untied_?”

“You’re going to have friends from kindergarten in your class, and if your shoes come untied, ask Miss Abraham for help.”

“But what about _Jimmy_?”

“If Jimmy is a problem, I’ll be talking to his mother. In the meantime, you try to talk reason. If talking reason and fighting back don’t work, walk away.”

“What if I don’t know when that is? How do I talk reason to a bully? Can I go home and help scrub the floors?”

“Nope, you’ll do fine. You know, you’re worrying too much. Surround yourself with friends, and you’ll be just fine Bucky. You can talk to Pop after he gets home from work.”

“Alright Ma.” Bucky looked up at his mother with wide eyes, she smiled at his watery, soft steel gaze, and kissed his forehead.

“I wouldn’t steer you wrong son. You’re going to have a great first day of first grade.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Honey, that wasn’t an order, it was a certainty. Off with you now, and have a good day.”

Bucky ran to the steps, turning once to wave and then disappeared through the red double doors.

. . .

Steve walked past the kid with the brown hair at recess, he was far away from his kindergarten class, they were all bigger than him anyway, so what would it hurt if he checked out the other bigger kids on the playground.

“Yer shoe’s untied.” He said as he passed. Thinking that he was being helpful, after all, he’d tied his shoes this morning and so if tiny little Steve Rogers could tie his shoes, anybody could.

Bucky sniffed and looked at the little kid who walked away. He sure was little. He shoved his sleeve across his face and looked back down at his shoe. He knew it was untied. He’d tripped over it right out the door at recess, tearing his trousers at the knee and bleeding into the fabric. He spent the rest of recess trying to tie it, through tears from the sting of both the scrape and frustration.

Bucky tried tucking the ends through each other and pulling tight. He worked on his rabbit ears and couldn’t get them to go in the hole. They twisted and then fell limp on the ground.

Steve walked back in front of Bucky this time, looking at the ground, watching the asphalt go from blurry to a little less so, “yer shoe’s untied.” He said again as he passed and headed for the door when the bell rang.

“I know!” Bucky hollered after him.

The next morning in the hallway, the tiny blonde kid made Bucky mad again, “Yer shoe’s untied.”

Later at recess, sitting in a different spot altogether, Bucky tried to tie his shoes again and gave up in a huff with his arms folded across his chest. He closed his eyes to the tears, trying not to let them come out of his eyes.

“Yer shoe’s untied.” The little hoarse voice said from above him. Well, not too far above him, the blonde kid was a tiny thing, and skinny.

“I know!” Bucky said and closed his eyes again.

“Yer – “

“Listen shrimp,” Bucky surged to his feet, towering over Steve, balling his fists at his sides, “If you say my shoe’s untied again I’m gonna flatten ya.”

“I was gonna say yer gonna trip. Why dontcha just _tie ‘em_?”

Bucky’s bravado rushed out of him like air from an untied balloon, “I can’t. Don’t know how.”

“But… but yer a _big kid_!” Steve said, incredulous.

“’M only six. I tried an’ I tried. I just can’t do it. Ma says she’s gonna put me in buckle shoes and I just wanna know how to tie my shoes.”

“I can show you.” Steve said, pushing his hair from his eyes. “I know it’s hard at first. I did mine, see.”

“Squirt, you ain’t gotta rub it in.”

“’M name ain’t squirt. It’s Steve.” Steve held out a small, thin hand.

Bucky stared at him, and at his hand, unballing his fists but not moving otherwise.

“Gentlemen shake hands. It ain’t too dirty, I ain’t gone and picked up anythin’ disgustin’ or nuthin.”

“I’m Bucky.” Bucky said shortly, thrusting his hand toward Steve’s but not taking the smaller kid’s hand.

Steve grasped Bucky’s hand in what was supposed to be a tight grip, but felt soft and weak to Bucky. He shook vigorously though, at least for a moment before stopping and coughing.

“You ok Steve?” Bucky asked, scared of the red to blue colors on Steve’s face.

Steve bent at the waist, holding his knees and sucking in breaths. He sat down and put his head between his knees, still struggling but catching air. Bucky hovered, frightened, with unbidden tears prickling the corner of his eyes, he’d never been so scared and he was just watching.

A minute or so, that felt like hours, later Steve looked up, his face pink. “Have problems with breathin sometimes. I’m ok.”

“You don’t look ok.” Bucky said, sitting next to Steve. “You sure?”

“Yup.” Steve took an easier breath, and another. His color started to even out a little, except for some bright pink highlighting his cheeks. “Ya want me ta show ya?”

Bucky was lost, confused and still a bit ‘ascared’. He looked at the little guy, “Show me what, how yer not dyin?”

“How ta tie yer shoes so ya don’t trip and break yer neck.” Steve said, as though the option Bucky offered was never even a consideration.

“Yeah, if ya think you could teach me. I think I can’t learn this.”

“Nonsense.” The boy said, looking all of four and a half if he was lucky, but sounding like the sagest adult Bucky had ever met. “Ya can learn ta tie yer shoes. No buckles for Bucky.” He giggled.

They spent the rest of recess with Steve untying his own shoes and having Bucky follow his every move, corrections were made to Bucky’s grip by Steve’s small hands moving his fingers just so.

“This ain’t how my ma showed me.” Bucky protested. His ma knew everything; this couldn’t be right.

“Ya ain’t learnin’ how ta do it yer ma’s way so learn my way.” Steve said. “Ain’t nothin’ got just one way ta do it. Do ya want buckles or not?”

“No.” Bucky furrowed his brow, following Steve’s instruction to completion. He kicked his feet together, his legs outstretched in front of him. He looked incredibly proud of the bows on his shoes, even if they came together differently than he’d learned.

“Ya wanna practice again tomorrow at recess?” Steve asked. “Just in case.”

“Sure. Just in case.”

\---

Steve smirked as the back of the man came into view again, “On your left.” He said again, causing just so much aggravation. He thought back to the first time he annoyed his way into someone’s life with a sad smile, and increased his speed, leaving the complaints behind.

Making friends wasn’t so hard.


End file.
